


i hope we both die

by cosmicpoet



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Apocalypse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Sometimes, when the world is ending, there's nothing left to fight. But there's so, so much left to hold dear.I hope that our few remaining friendsGive up on trying to save usI hope we come up with a fail-safe plotTo piss off the dumb few that forgave us- No Children ; The Mountain Goats
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	i hope we both die

Nobody could have predicted it, the way the world ended. Sure, there had always been speculation – nuclear war, mutual destruction, global warming, alien invasion; anything bold and bright enough to end the world had already been thought of and prepared for, except… well, nobody really thought that the Earth itself would just _give up._ That, one day, under the weight-bearing dusk of millennia, the world would simply breathe an exhausted sigh of relief and sink into insignificance. Of course, it wasn’t so fast, nor so easily explained in the initial stages. The birds stopped singing, and then they stopped feeding their young, like they knew that there was no point preparing another generation when there would be nowhere to live; and then the tides, wild and untamed, simply… stopped. The moon, still in the sky, seemed to have no influence on the waves, and before oceanologists could begin to formulate theories, the seas were eerily calm across the entire expanse of the planet.

Once they began to recede – not quite _dry up,_ rather, disappear back into the underbelly of the ground, vegetation followed suit. Trees, having stood for centuries upon centuries, turned to dust overnight. Plants broke through even the most heavily paved roads, contorting and twisting unnaturally towards a cold, uncaring sun, until, satisfied with the destruction of industrialisation, they withered right there on the spot. 

Of course, none of that matters right now. At least, not to Goro, who’s always had a sixth sense for these sorts of things – it’s almost like he can taste destruction on the tip of his tongue before the iceberg even hits, and he’s far too acquainted with good things never lasting to do anything other than drink it in. Frankly, he’s already asking for far too much to wish that Akira will continue to stay with him through this. Futaba, aided by Sojiro, took off weeks ago, old research in hand – Goro supposes that they’re still trying to put a stop to this, that some of Akira’s never-give-in optimism has brushed off on them. They’ll die in the lab or be heralded as heroes.

Really, it’s a surprise that Akira didn’t accompany them. He’s not exactly book-smart enough to be much help, but it’s so unlike him to sit idly by while the sun grows colder each day. This is a topic that Goro tries not to dwell too much on, since the alternative – the reason why Akira stayed – involves a sickly medicine-dose of pity; and if the world is ending, can’t he at least pretend to keep his walls up for another day?

Another day. That’s all he thinks it’ll take, as he watches the sunrise. Light leaks through the window, dancing in uniform across Akira’s sleeping body. For a moment, an infinitesimal moment, Goro allows his throat to constrict at the thought that this will be the last time he sees Akira like this, kissed by light itself, soft skin and limbs everywhere. He stares, hard, willing himself to commit the image to memory; the way his hair falls over his closed eyes, the rise and fall of his chest, punctuated by the soft snores that sound like a cat purring. Speaking of, Morgana left them weeks back. He looked at Akira and for that instant, Goro had never felt more alone, locked out of the communication bubble where it seemed as though the cat was telling Akira that his job was done, his protection until the end was unnecessary. Still, that would mean that Morgana– who always hated him and never figured out how not to cough up fur-balls on his fresh laundry – thought that Goro was a worthy substitute for Akira’s final protector. Yes. He likes that. Useful, rather than the deadweight dragging Akira away from his family as the world ends.

If Akira was awake, he’d say something about Goro being his family, too. Perhaps his husband one day, if the world hadn’t decided to end. And, just like that, the image is gone from his mind. Ah, whatever. It was always going to be impossible to replicate, anyway. Besides, Akira is stirring in his sleep, pulling the small blanket closer to him; the sun, while bright and nuclear, is colder than ever. Most of humanity has either frozen to death or, like lemmings, followed the herd in the hopes that a gunshot would be quicker, cleaner, more… _human_ than withering away as the sky becomes ice. 

“I don’t think we’ll last a day longer,” Goro says before Akira even opens his eyes fully.

“Mhm,” Akira responds. He’s still evidently clinging onto sleep, onto a world with more stability and a chance to live a full life; Goro can’t blame him. They’ve both been through so much, but where it has made Goro jaded and – almost – excited for the end, it has just made Akira kind.

“Did you hear me? The world is ending today.”

“It can end later. Nothing’s more important than morning snuggles.”

And of course, Goro obliges. Who is he to deny Akira anything? Akira, who, broken and bruised himself, had pulled Goro out of the obliterating darkness years ago; who had dismantled his walls not with a jackhammer, but with soft, methodical hands; who had loved him and loved him until, quite literally, the world ended.

He sinks back into a lying down position and Akira pulls him closer. Like this, he can smell the faint scent of coffee that always lingers in Akira’s hair – although Leblanc has long since closed up shop, Goro suspects that it gives Akira some stability and comfort to man the counter, even if he’s only making coffee for two now. 

Soon, though, the cold becomes unbearable, even with both of their bodies radiating what little heat they have back and forth between one another. They can’t hold onto the illusion any longer, and Goro gets up, prompting Akira to follow suit. He’s been wearing the same t-shirt for three days now, and he doesn’t see a point in changing it; it’s one of Akira’s old, grey things and it makes him feel warmer than anything else, given the situation. Besides, he’s already made his peace with it – this is the t-shirt he wants to die in.

They find themselves up on the rooftop, coffee in hand, legs hanging over the edge. It’s unspoken between them – _we could jump, you know? –_ but other than that, their thoughts are largely surface-level and are communicated as such. Akira’s comments on the beautiful skyline, Goro’s remarks about the coldness of the sun, et cetera, et cetera. The divine and the despicable, pulling towards one another; it was always going to end this way.

For some reason, the days are shorter, now. They’ve only been on the rooftop for a few hours by the time the sun has completely passed over them and is sinking down the other side of the building. Goro thinks about turning round to watch it, but he doesn’t want to give it the privilege of sharing such an intimate moment. This is between himself and Akira, and the universe itself isn’t worthy of shedding useless light on their last moments together.

Akira opens up his coat – an old thing that Sojiro left him – and Goro huddles inside. There’s so much they could talk about, so much they could wish for; a last minute miracle from the Sakura household, a sky full of stars that have long since burned out in the sky, a dream-world that could last forever in a second – they could live out the rest of their lives in their heads before the sun even sets.

Instead, they hold each other. And down, oh, down, goes the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you enjoyed this! It's just a little thing I wrote to try and jumpstart myself out of fic-writing writer's block, so I apologise for its shortness and the fact that it isn't very good. Also, I promise I'll write the final chapter of my multichapter shuake fic at some point – life really came on hard these past months, but I haven't forgotten about it, or you guys!
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe and healthy >w<
> 
> Title from 'No Children' by The Mountain Goats.


End file.
